


The Blessing of Ignorance

by semaphoredrivethru



Series: Dirty Rotten Scoundrels [2]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: AU, M/M, Spies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-29
Updated: 2011-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After what you could call a stressful business weekend in Milan, Michael and James discuss the best way to unwind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blessing of Ignorance

**Author's Note:**

> For [this photo](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lr4fjhtHfK1qg40aro1_500.jpg) and [this photo.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ls7iw3u2361ql2l3ro3_500.jpg)

In the street below, the people of Milan went about their way, filling the roads with their cars and buses, the sidewalks with locals and tourists, teaching each other how to say "Watch where the bloody fuck you're going, mate" in half a dozen different languages. The faint sing-song of vendors, punctuated by the beep of an impatient lorry, drifted up on the breeze as it danced through the open balcony door at Michael's back. Michael took it in with half an ear, more concerned with the progress bar on his laptop screen.

That last part, was, of course, a lie. He was more concerned with his body guard and how the slight tan he'd managed to pick up in the few days they'd been in Italy made his eyes an even more impossible shade of blue than normal.

McAvoy looked at him with a small smile. "Is Italy always this welcoming to you, sir?"

Michael laughed. There had been two gun fights, one car chase, and a particularly complicated bomb that had hacked McAvoy off something terrible, cracking that cool like a cheap safe. The former 6 agent had shown that not only was he fluent in several languages, but could swear profusely in them, too, when they'd discovered the pressure trigger attached to enough Semtex to take out a city block.

But McAvoy had proven himself, time and again, of being able to handle whatever his employer's enemies could throw at the pair of them.

"No, not normally," Michael said at last. He glanced out the window, looking down at the bustling lives below, and had the idle thought that half of them would probably have passed out from sheer terror if they knew just how close they'd all come to dying just that afternoon. "Normally, my trips to Italy are much more... relaxing. Rejuvenating, even."

"Is that so?" McAvoy sounded closer. Michael turned and saw him checking out the status of the bank transfer. Not long now. "And how does a man like the infamous Michael Fassbender rejuvenate?"

"Oh, the usual." Michael smiled, and knew it was as predatory as he sounded. "Time with a masseuse, room service... and at least one day doing nothing much more than rolling around in my hotel bed, fucking someone's brains out."

McAvoy shot him an inscrutable look. "But not having yours fucked out, then?"

"Oh, certainly." Michael started closing the distance between them, one step at a time. And then they were there; close enough to touch, close enough to kiss. "I'm all about the equal opportunity."

"Mmm." McAvoy took a half step closer, and lifted one hand as though to put it on Michael's chest. All of the air, from the salt-water breeze through the window, to the lazy circling fan in the ceiling above then, just seemed to vanish as Michael held on to the moment, waiting to see, waiting for his cue to just lean in and--

The laptop beeped, signalling the end of the transfer and shattering the moment. McAvoy pulled away with a laugh and looked at the screen.

"Looks like your business is done here, sir," he said. "I'll phone the pilot, tell him to be ready within the hour. I suspect there might be more trouble than we can handle if we stayed in Italy much longer."

Michael just nodded dumbly as he closed the balcony doors, trying to swallow around a suddenly dry tongue.

And below, Milan continued moving.


End file.
